


Red

by iloveitblue



Series: Prompts [189]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:03:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveitblue/pseuds/iloveitblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Clint tries to move on</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

When they told him he was gone, Clint felt like the world had stopped turning. He didn’t say anything not for the lack of things to say but because he had too much to say.

_It’s not true. He can’t be gone._

_Why did no one stop him?_

_Why was I not there to protect him?_

These were only some of the thoughts that ran through Clint’s mind as they tell him how Phil had died a hero. A hero. Can you believe that? He was always a hero. They just didn’t recognize him. And now,  _only_ now that he’s gone, they tell Clint  _he died a hero._  

At first Clint thought it was joke. A cruel,  _cruel_  joke - but no one was laughing. There was no punchline. He was just  _gone._

Clint had tried - he’d tried everything - anything to make himself forget about Phil Coulson. He’d tried drinking, meaningless sex, staying alone for hours on end. He’d even tried pretending he was okay. But that only made everything worse. 

He’d remember the names they called each other. He’d remember the times they fought over the smallest of things. He’d remember the times he had to reign in his smile every time Phil told him “Good Job, Barton”. 

He’d also remember the jokes that made Phil smile - an equivalent to a full blown cackle. Those gorgeous blue eyes that challenged you in the best of ways. The amusement in his voice every time Clint said something particularly ridiculous.

Clint remembers the day they met. How they spit hurtful words at each other, pointing guns and arrows. He remembered the times he’d sneak in to Phil’s office to take a nap and wake up with a blanket draped over him and Phil steadily typing into his computer. He remembered the times he had to bodily drag Phil out of his office because he was working too much.

He remembers the feel of his touch against his skin, the heat and the gentleness of every contact. It was as if he thought Clint was something precious. Something to hold dear and never let go. 

He remembers the taste of his lips. How the first time they kissed made him shiver and made him think that this was a moment he never wanted to end. How it made him feel that everything he’s ever done in life was right if it led him to that moment. 

He remembers all the times they fell into bed together. Every single time Clint tried to convince himself it meant nothing. That it was lust, not love. That his eyes followed this man with desires, not adoration and admiration or any other feeling associated with loving someone.

He remembers the moment he realized he was in love. Opening his eyes slowly and blearily on one of those rare lazy Sundays, seeing this man sleep next to him, thinking “ _I could wake up to this every morning”._

Clint tries, and tries,  _and tries_  to forget. He tries to say he’s all right and mean it. He tries to keep on smiling. Playing jokes. Being his usual, quirky, charming self. 

He tries to move on.

He has to accept the fact that Phil is gone. That he’s not coming back. He’s dead, Clint. Phil’s dead but he’s not. He has to move on.

But he can’t. 

Not when he still remembers everything so clearly. 

Not when he still misses him.

Not when he still loves him.

Not when he still regrets not telling Phil “ _I love you”_

**Author's Note:**

> [Here on tumblr](http://promptmephlint.tumblr.com/post/112697329326/i-have-been-listening-to-this-song-for-weeks)


End file.
